


hyperbole

by fnowae



Series: blind!patrick [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, a prompt fill for y'all, blind!patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 06:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11731800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fnowae/pseuds/fnowae
Summary: "Oh. Thanks." Patrick shifts his hand and grabs the fork, a look of relief crossing his face. He turns back in Joe's direction and shrugs. "Sorry. Blind," he says apologetically.Joe blinks once, then says, "You'rekidding.""Nope." Patrick goes for his eggs with the fork, hitting them spot on and shoving a bite into his mouth. He chews and swallows slowly, then takes another bite. Pete and Joe can only stand there, watching silently.





	hyperbole

**Author's Note:**

> _im-back-with-the-madness said:  
>  Joe and Pete meet Patrick one day at a restaurant and tbeyre immediately taken by the hella cute blind man in the corner booth. They both like walk over to him before they realize they hes blind and try to chat him up and ots not till they notice he doesnt look at their eyes that they realize hes blind and that makes them love him even more anx they immediately ask if he wants to go on a date with the two of them.Patrick obviously says yes because they sound amazjng and nocs and perfect_
> 
> I'm a hoe for blind!patrick you should send me prompts for this 'verse on my Tumblr @vicesandvelociraptors and I'll love you forever

It wasn't that a dingy diner wasn't Joe's idea of a good date, it was just - yeah, okay, it was exactly that. 

"Pete, is this really where you want to go?" he hisses out, surveying the interior of the diner distastefully. It looks like the eighties crawled up its ass and died, but not before shitting all over it. Joe isn't saying he needs a super fancy date - in fact, he hates those. But he just thinks they could stand to do a little better than this. He'd prefer fucking McDonald's!

"Yeah!" Pete responds, severing Joe's hopes. "I have a good feeling about this. Baby, c'mon, it'll be fun."

Joe mutters something about how he's already caught twenty diseases just by breathing in here, but lets Pete lead him into the main area anyways. He's about to make another hyperbolic complaint when something catches his eye and stops him in his tracks, shattering his complaints of being here. 

Seated at a small booth near the back, hunched over a plate of bacon and eggs, is a man about Joe's age who Joe is pretty sure is the cutest guy to exist on this planet, ever. (And yes, that's counting Pete. Pete is much more on the "hot" side of the spectrum than the "cute" side.) The guy's got eyes that Joe can see the beauty of from across the damn diner, hair tucked under a gray cap, and he's gotten a couple bits of egg on the sleeve of his cardigan, which, wow, Joe didn't know people even still wore those. He thinks he's in love. 

"Joe, you okay? Whatcha lookin' at?"

Joe startles, head snapping over to Pete. What is he supposed to do, tell his fucking boyfriend he was staring at another guy? But Pete seems to realize where Joe's gaze had been pointing, and rather than be upset, he breathes out, "Fuck, man, he's cute. Nice eye."

Joe blinks. "Uh, I - yeah?"

Pete turns back to Joe, a shit-eating grin spread across his face. "We should go talk to him."

Joe's face goes red. "We should what?"

"Go talk to him," Pete repeats, waving a hand in the guy's direction. "You _do_ think he's cute, right? I'm not just being weird?"

Joe purses his lips, trying to choose his words carefully. He begins slowly, "I mean, I do, but-"

"Great!" Pete interrupts, snatching Joe by the arm and starting to pull him along. "We're talking to him."

" _Pete_ ," Joe says plaintively, but lets his overenthusiastic boyfriend pull him along anyway. 

Pete approaches the guy, alone in his booth, and brightly greets him with a cheery, "Hi!"

The guy startles, dropping his fork, and then slowly turns towards Pete. 

"Hello?" he responds after a moment of deliberation. "Sorry, do I know you?"

"Nope!" Pete answers, taking another step forward and tugging Joe closer with him. "We're total strangers. I'm Pete. The guy I'm dragging along against his will is Joe."

"I'm Patrick." Patrick presses his lips together tightly, looking considerate. "You're bothering me...why, exactly?"

"Because we think you're cute," Pete deadpans. 

"Pete!" Joe complains, which gets a laugh out of Pete, and a frown from Patrick. 

"Um, alright." Patrick looks skeptical. He reaches back for his fork again, and somehow manages to miss it entirely. 

"Uh, it's to the left, there," Joe pipes up, trying to be helpful. 

"Oh. Thanks." Patrick shifts his hand and grabs the fork, a look of relief crossing his face. He turns back in Joe's direction and shrugs. "Sorry. Blind," he says apologetically. 

Joe blinks once, then says, "You're _kidding_."

"Nope." Patrick goes for his eggs with the fork, hitting them spot on and shoving a bite into his mouth. He chews and swallows slowly, then takes another bite. Pete and Joe can only stand there, watching silently. 

After about thirty seconds, Patrick mumbles to himself, "And they're gone, aren't they?"

"No, we're still right here," Pete says. 

Patrick jumps in his seat, dropping the fork again. This time it tumbles to the ground, and Patrick swears under his breath, then mutters, "Where'd it go?"

"I'll get it," Joe finds himself offering, stepping forward and kneeling down. The fork is right under the table, next to one of Patrick's feet. He picks it up easily, rises up, and presses it into Patrick's hand. 

Patrick takes it and smiles, not really at Joe, but in his general vicinity. "Thank you."

"No problem." Joe shrugs, then realizes that Patrick can't even see the action. 

Patrick sets the fork down and goes for his glass of water, locating it pretty easily. He presses it to his lips and takes a long sip, then sets it down. 

"Okay," he says, not even bothering to turn towards Pete and Joe this time. "Why are you still here?"

"Didn't you hear me? We think you're cute," Pete answers, sounding very matter-of-fact about it. 

"Pete," Joe complains again, but less so this time. 

Patrick takes another long sip of water, then says, "So that wasn't a joke."

"No!" Pete shakes his head, and then he must realize it's pointless in this situation, because he stops and adds, "It was totally serious."

"Hm." Patrick bites the inside of his cheek, his face considerate. He finds his fork again and shovels in a new bite of eggs. 

Pete taps Joe on the shoulder, and Joe gives him an inquisitive look. Pete mouths " _I want to ask him out_ ", and Joe's eyes widen. Pete nods, as if to say " _Yeah, really_ ". Joe pauses, considering this. Well, he's definitely not opposed to it - Patrick is really fucking cute, and he seems like a nice guy. But...okay, actually, as hard as he tries, Joe can't come up with a "but" for this. He nods to Pete, but then points to himself. _I'll do it_. 

Pete shrugs. _I'm not stopping you_.

"Patrick," Joe begins, moving to sit down across from the still busily eating blind man. "I was wondering - well, me and Pete were wondering - I mean-" fuck, he should've let Pete do this "-we wanted to know if you wanted to...like, go out for dinner sometime?"

Patrick looks surprised, but at least he doesn't drop his fork this time. He frowns, poking his eggs with only the far right prong of the fork and looking thoughtful. 

"You're asking me out?" he asks finally, stabbing the fork through a chunk of egg and stuffing it into his mouth. 

"Uh, yes," Joe answers nervously. 

" _Both_ of you?"

"Yep!" Pete contributes cheerily. (But Joe knows Pete, and he can detect the nerves hidden on the tip of Pete's voice as well - the cheeriness is an impressively believable defense mechanism.)

"Hm." Patrick goes back to poking at the eggs, pushing them around the plate. One of them falls over the edge and onto the surface of the table, but of course Patrick doesn't see it. 

Joe's heartbeat picks up, afraid that this has been a mistake. In fact, it probably was. What were they thinking? Why does he let Pete come up with this shit, and then talk him into it? Why did he-

"Yes."

"Huh?" It's Joe's turn to be startled. 

"Yes," Patrick repeats, nodding as a small smile forms on his face. "I think I'd like that."

///

One year later, they're curled up in bed together in the house that they'd just moved into less than a month ago. They still aren't unpacked, and at the rate they're going they won't be for at least two more weeks, but it doesn't seem to matter to them. 

"You know what still amazes me?" Patrick asks. He tries to roll over, but he's sandwiched pretty effectively between Joe and Pete. 

"What?" Joe asks sleepily. 

"That when I told you I was blind, you didn't leave," Patrick responds softly, voice dropping out with the confession. 

"Oh, hon, why would we leave?" Pete asks, reaching out to brush a hand across Patrick's cheek. Patrick's hand strays up to grab Pete's and hold it there. 

"I - I don't know." Patrick sighs. "I was used to that. People thought I was great until they realized I couldn't see them."

"Patrick, you're great, _and_ you can't see us," Joe says. "The two aren't mutually exclusive."

"I know," Patrick mumbles. "I was just surprised you didn't leave like everyone else."

Silence falls, not quite awkward, but edging on it, and Patrick breaks it with a soft, "I'm glad you didn't."

"We are too," Pete promises, squeezing Patrick's hand back. "We are too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm serious about sending blind!patrick prompts to my Tumblr @vicesandvelociraptors pleASE


End file.
